


i'm yours to keep, babe

by notafamousperson



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Canon-Typical Behavior, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-04 10:24:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20469485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notafamousperson/pseuds/notafamousperson
Summary: Watching his best friend and roommate bring home date after date awoke an emotion in Dennis unlike any he’d ever felt before — one that was burning him up inside, one he couldn’t even begin to name.That was, until he could.





	1. slowly drivin' me out of my mind

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone!! this is my first sunny fic and i am very excited to share it with you!
> 
> right now i’m thinking this fic will be around 6-7 chapters (subject to change tho) and i’m gonna post each chapter as soon as i can!! currently i have about half of this fic finished and i was totally gonna wait to start posting but i got impatient (lol)
> 
> the title of this fic and the titles of each chapter are all taken from a song called what is this feeling? by al green
> 
> this first chapter is really short, so sorry about that but i kinda wanted this one to be a really short one!! the others are much much longer. i hope u enjoy!!

Dennis watched Mac and his latest hookup say their goodbyes at the front door out of the corner of his eye while he poured his coffee, steam floating into the air and grazing his cheeks. They had been standing in front of the door smiling privately and whispering to each other for at least five minutes now and Dennis felt his eye twitch as the man, drenched in glitter with bleach-blonde curls and an artificial tan, grasped Mac’s forearm and laughed dramatically at something Mac said.

The man’s teeth were too big. It was unsettling.

Every single night for weeks, Mac had brought home someone from The Rainbow and every single night, Dennis lay in bed, his eye twitching as he imagined exactly what Mac was doing with those men just twenty feet away. He couldn’t actually _hear_ them, of course, because his bedroom was sound-proofed, but it bothered Dennis that Mac kept bringing random guys into their apartment. He didn’t know why, but it did_. _It made Dennis’ gut twist uncomfortably, made his hands ache to clench into fists, made his —

_ Fuck. _

Near-boiling coffee overflowed from his cup and spilled onto his hand. Dennis hissed, setting down his mug and the coffee pot and shaking his arm out. He went to the sink and put the burn under a stream of cold water and glared at the red mark quickly forming on the back of his hand.

“You okay, dude?”

Dennis jumped, unaware that Mac had entered the kitchen. He kept his head turned away, his jaw clenched.

“Fine.”

“You sure?” He heard Mac as he closed the distance between them and leaned over his shoulder. Mac hissed behind him. When he exhaled, Dennis could feel it on his neck. He muttered, his voice directly in Dennis’ ear, “That looks bad, dude. I’m gonna go get the first aid kit.”

“Since when do we have a fucking _ first aid kit? _” Dennis replied. Usually, if one of them got hurt, they just wrapped it up with a paper towel and some duct tape. It was cheaper than a first aid kit and it did basically the same job.

“Oh, I, uh, I bought one while I was practicing for, y’know,” Mac made a gesture that objectively made no sense but that Dennis understood anyway. From deeper in the apartment, his voice distant, he continued, “I used to get blisters, like, all the time.”

Dennis heard the bathroom cabinet under the sink open and the sound of pill bottles being shuffled around. He knew that when Mac said “practicing” he was referring to rehearsal for the dance he did for his dad when he came out. None of the gang really talked about that much; Mac had come back to the bar that day with red-rimmed eyes that were eerily blank and didn’t speak a word to any of them. When they asked Frank about it later he’d nearly broken down in tears. So, yeah. The Dance was a subject Dennis avoided at all costs.

But… Mac was different, After. It seemed like the weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders for his entire life had been lifted from him. Dennis didn’t know exactly what that weight was — his desperate need for his father’s approval, his fear of disappointing whatever God he believed in, his belief that he needed to show the world some sort of hypermasculine Alpha Male, or maybe some combination of all of it. But it was gone, After.

After Mac was confident. After Mac smiled and laughed easily. After Mac wore floral print shirts and went to The Rainbow covered in body glitter and came home with more of it on his lips. After Mac flirted with guys at the bar, went on dates, and came back to his and Dennis’ apartment with a new man on his arm nearly every night.

Dennis hated After Mac.

“Okay,” Mac said, returning to the kitchen with a metal first aid kit in hand. He set the kit down on the kitchen table and popped open the lid, shuffling through various medical shit. Finally, he seemed to find what he’d been looking for, his eyes lit up as he seized it. “Aha! Gauze wrap.”

He held the roll up for Dennis to inspect, seemingly for his approval. Dennis didn’t give a shit; he only wanted his hand to stop fucking burning.

He shrugged.

“Alright, well come here so I can take care of you, dude,” Mac said. Dennis sighed deeply but reached around to turn off the sink anyway.

Pulling his burned hand out from the soothing water of the sink was a huge mistake. He hissed in a sharp breath from between his teeth as soon as his tender skin hit the air, wincing at the stinging sensation of cool air on his wound. By now, it had turned an angry red and Dennis could already tell that soon it would blister. He went to the kitchen table, hoping that whatever spray Mac had sitting on the table to put on the burn would stop it from hurting so goddamn much.

As soon as he sat down, Mac grabbed his hand and inspected the burn. “Shit, bro. This looks _ bad _.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Dennis grumbled. Today was chalking up to be shitty already, and he really didn’t need Mac’s stupidity making it worse.

Ignoring Dennis’ attitude, Mac picked up the spray. “I’m gonna put this on it before I wrap it. It might sting at first but it says it should take some of the heat out of the burn.”

“Whatever,” Dennis growled, shoving his chin into his other palm, his elbow resting on the kitchen table. His hand still hurt, but as he grew acclimated to the feel of air on it, it became more of a distant throbbing ache than the sharp pain it had been before. The pain wasn’t bad enough to distract him from his anger anymore.

Mac took the cap off the spray, gave it a few good shakes, then aimed it at Dennis’ hand and pressed the trigger.

“Ow! Goddamn!” Dennis shrieked, yanking his hand out of Mac’s grip and cradling it against his chest. “Holy shit that _ hurt!” _

“I’m sorry, dude,” Mac replied, not sounding sorry at all, and if Dennis’ good hand hadn’t been out of commission, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from punching Mac directly in the face. “Lemme just wrap it up and then we’ll be done.”

Dennis contemplated telling Mac to fuck right off, but instead, he thrust his hand forward and watched in a disconnected kind of way as Mac gently wrapped his hand in gauze. Once he’d finished the final wrap, Dennis pulled his hand away from Mac’s and shoved himself up from the table. He walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed his coffee mug, pouring its contents down the drain. When he’d finished, he grabbed the coffee pot and did the same.

“Hey, I was gonna drink some of that!” Mac exclaimed from behind him. Something in Dennis snapped — he grabbed the edge of the countertop and squeezed with his uninjured hand until his knuckles turned white. Suddenly, all he could see was white-hot rage, threatening to consume him entirely.

“Well, _ Mac _ ,” Dennis spat, whipping around to face him, “if you wanted some _ goddamn _ coffee, then maybe you should’ve _ made some!” _

“What the fuck is your problem, dude? I just wrapped up your hand and shit. Why are you being such a dick?” Mac asked, throwing his hands in the air. His jaw clenched tight, and his form was rigid; he was ready for a fight. It made Dennis even angrier how well Mac could predict him.

“You playing doctor isn’t gonna make me feel better! I wouldn’t have _ burned myself _in the first place had it not been for you!” Dennis hollered, veins protruding in his forehead and neck.

“How the fuck is you spilling coffee on yourself my fault?” Mac screamed back.

“The coffee would not have been spilled if you and your, your — boytoy of the night had not been distracting me from the task at hand, Mac!” Dennis spat, gesturing wildly. “So yes, it is your fault!”

“My boytoy — _ what the fuck are you talking about?” _Mac exclaimed. “Is this about your hand, or is it about the guy I brought home last night?”

“It’s not just _ that guy, _ Mac! It’s _ all _of the guys! It’s every goddamn night, you coming home with some different dude you picked up from a trashy club and letting them into our apartment!”

“How the fuck is me bringing home dudes any different from all the chicks you bring home, Dennis?” Mac asked. “You turned your room into a _ sex chamber _so you could bang chicks!”

“It _ is _ different!” Dennis yelled. And it was. Dennis bringing home chicks wasn’t the same as Mac bringing home dudes, because Dennis didn’t let those women spend the night. He didn’t do post-sex cuddling or morning-after breakfast. Dennis didn’t even think about forming an emotional attachment with those women, or letting them hang around in _ Mac and Dennis’ _space. Those women were nothing more to Dennis than a warm body to fuck and send away when he was finished.

Mac, on the other hand, did the cuddling, and the breakfasts, and he laughed and flirted and joked with the men after they’d already fucked, and on a few occasions, he’d brought over the same guy twice. Once, he’d brought over the same guy three times and they hadn’t even fucked the third time. They watched a movie. On Mac and Dennis’ couch.

“Why is it different? Huh, Dennis? Is it because they’re dudes?” Mac asked. “‘Cause ever since I came out, you’ve been a huge fucking asshole. Is it because I’m banging dudes now? You’ve got a problem with it?”

“_Yes!” _Dennis bellowed, harsh pants causing his chest to rise and fall in quick succession. As his response washed over him, he froze. “No, wait, I— Mac, that’s not what I—”

Hurt swam in Mac’s eyes and Dennis felt his stomach constrict. Dennis walked forward and reached for Mac’s arm, and Mac slapped his hand away, backing away from him. Shock went down Dennis’ spine like a bucket of cold water as he watched Mac’s eyes begin to water.

“Mac,” he whispered, all the anger draining from his body as quickly as it had appeared. “I didn’t mean it like—“

“_Shut up, Dennis!” _ Mac yelled, his voice breaking on Dennis’ name. Sniffling, he wiped the back of his hand over his eyes and backed away further, heading for the front door. “I—I’m—Don’t follow me.”

And Mac was gone.

Dennis sunk to the floor as soon as the door slammed shut, carding his good hand through his hair as he dragged his knees to his chest. Slowly, his hands began to tremble, his breath came in short, violent bursts, and his vision blurred to the point where he couldn’t see. Dennis squeezed his eyes shut and felt warm tears slide down his cheeks.


	2. you go out at night knowing things between you and me ain't right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aah sorry this chapter took so long!! i'm in college and i have been swamped w assignments the past two weeks :/ pls find it in your hearts to forgive me lol

“Dee, you bitch! Open up!” Dennis yelled, pounding on the door to his sister’s apartment again. It was the afternoon now but not late enough to warrant Dee being at the bar, so he knew she had to be home and was simply ignoring him. “Goddamnit, Dee, open the door!”

He raised his hand to pound on the door for the fourth time when Dee finally swung the door open, a crazed look in her eyes.

“Oh my god, what the fuck do you want?” she shrieked, her shrill voice giving Dennis a headache. Dennis shoved past her and threw himself on her couch, picking up the remote on the cushion next to him and flipping aimlessly through the channels on the television.

Dee closed her apartment door and turned around to look at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can’t stay. I’ve got plans.”

Dennis snorted. It was so sad how Dee still attempted to lie about having a life to him; he was already well aware that she was a lonely spinster destined to a life of depression and shame.

“_ You’ve _got plans? And what would those be?”

“None of your business, boner,” Dee replied, crossing her arms. “I’m not telling you shit so don’t keep asking. You just can’t stay.”

Dennis turned back to the television and finally settled on an episode of The Office. He tossed the remote back on the couch and settled in to watch. Dee eventually returned to whatever she’d been doing before she got up to let Dennis in, he assumed, because she was no longer looming over him.

“Just cancel whatever bullshit date you’ve got planned,” Dennis finally said, raising his voice so that Dee could hear him from her bedroom. “It’s not like it’s gonna go well anyway, Dee. Men find you repulsive.”

“I’m not cancelling, asshole,” Dee called back. “What are you doing here anyway? Since when do you come hang out at my place? The last time you did that was when you and Mac had that— Oh, you and Mac are fighting?”

Dennis’ jaw clenched and he stood up to go raid Dee’s kitchen. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday and usually he could go much longer without eating with no problem, but today the uncomfortable twist of his empty stomach wasn’t something he wanted to deal with. He grabbed a granola bar and ripped open the packaging, taking a bite and brushing the pieces that broke off onto his shirt all over Dee’s kitchen floor. Dennis kicked some of them under her fridge and left the rest for her to clean up. Whatever — her apartment probably already had rats anyway.

He took his granola bar back to her couch and threw himself down. He chewed for another couple of minutes before he responded to her question from earlier, searching for the right words to encompass the horror of what happened this morning.

“Mac brought another guy over last night, and I flipped out on him,” he finished lamely. It didn’t even scratch the surface of what really went down, but whatever. It was really none of her business anyway. He didn’t even know why he was telling her anything in the first place.

“Why’d you do that?” Dee asked. Dennis could tell she was doing her mascara because of the way her voice sounded, like her mouth was wide open in an obnoxious ‘o’.

“Because it’s gross, Dee. He comes home with some guy he doesn’t even know, like, every night,” Dennis scoffed, sucking granola out of his teeth. He kicked his feet up on her coffee table and crossed one foot over the other ankle.

“Okay? And how is that any different than you bringing home random chicks all the time?” Dee asked, walking back into the room with her makeup finished. She pushed his legs off her coffee table and sat on the opposite end of the couch.

“Because I’m not forming any type of emotional connection with these women, Dee! I don’t do emotional connections with them! Mac, on the other hand, is letting these men invade _ our space. _He lets them sit on our couch! He lets them eat in our kitchen!”

“So you’re mad that Mac is bringing home dudes not just to fuck, but to possibly develop feelings for?” She asked. Of course, when she phrased it like _ that _ it sounded weird, but it was more complicated than that. She wouldn’t get it. “And you… don’t develop feelings with women?”

“Are you calling me gay?”

“Hey man, I’m just repeating what you said to me,” Dee held her hands up. “Not once did I say you were gay. You said that.”

“I’m not gay!” Dennis exclaimed. “It’s not—I’m not gay. I just don’t have—feelings.”

“You don’t have feelings,” Dee deadpanned.

“Yes. I don’t have feelings,” Dennis replied, raising his chin.

“So you didn’t have any _ feelings _when Mac bought you that rocket launcher?” Dee countered. When Dennis didn’t immediately respond, she raised an eyebrow.

“That was… different,” Dennis said, unsure. He definitely had feelings about that. He’d wanted a rocket launcher for years and Mac… He’d gotten him one. For Valentine’s Day. That day, Dennis had had more feelings than he’d ever had before.

But on the other hand, he felt absolutely indifferent towards every single woman he’d ever been with. Even his college girlfriend had meant nothing to him and he’d dated her for over a year. The sex was great, so he wasn’t gay, but he was entirely emotionally detached.

“Look, Dennis, I’m gonna be completely honest with you right now,” Dee said, “I don’t give a single shit. Be gay, be straight, be whatever. Admit you wanna bang Mac, deny you wanna bang Mac. I genuinely couldn’t care less.”

“I don’t wanna bang Mac!” Dennis shouted. The notion was preposterous, he wasn’t gay, it was absolutely—

“Again, _ I don’t care. _All I’m saying is that when you and Mac fight, it messes up the Gang dynamic and you both drive the rest of us crazy,” she said. “So you need to make up with Mac or I will sucker punch you in the balls.”

“How do you expect me to make up with Mac when I don’t even know where the hell he is?” Dennis asked. “And why is it _ my _responsibility to make up? He’s the one bringing—“

“Oh my god, you dick, I don’t care! Just get out of my apartment!” Dee squawked. Like a bird. Like a stupid, useless, Sesame Street Big Bird bitch. She stood up and made a shooing motion with her humongous hand. “Go on, get out.”

Dennis rolled his eyes and stood up. “Whatever. You’re useless. I don’t even know why I came here in the first place.”

“Uh huh, yeah, alright. Get the fuck out of my apartment,” she said as she marched him out the door, slamming it as soon as he was outside of her apartment.

As he left Dee’s apartment building, he passed a beautiful woman with decently large breasts. He couldn’t stop thinking about Mac, though, and how mad Mac was at him, so he wasn’t in the mood to ask for her number. Usually, he’d jump at the chance to bang a woman with breasts that large. He was so upset about Mac, though, that he couldn’t even find her attractive. God, Mac ruined everything even when he wasn’t around.

~

On his way back to the apartment, Dennis stopped by the bar and stole a bottle of Jack Daniel’s; his head was pounding and he couldn’t take being sober anymore. As soon as he was back in his apartment, he popped the lid off and took a swig, wincing around the burn of it in his throat.

Throughout the day, he’d found himself getting angrier and angrier at Mac. If he’d just stayed around for five more minutes and let Dennis explain himself, this whole mess could have been averted. He’d decided to leave instead, and now Dennis was alone to drown his emotions in whiskey.

So much for talking things out like adults.

And seeing Mac cry? Knowing that Mac is somewhere — probably at Charlie’s — thinking that Dennis hates him because he’s gay? It made Dennis’ heart ache in his chest. Being gay was the one thing Mac had struggled with his whole life, along with earning his father’s approval.

Well, he’d just lost his father because of his sexuality, and in his mind, he’d lost his best friend because of it, too.

If he’d just stayed to hear Dennis out, they could be sitting on the couch together right now watching Thundergun Express. Dennis took another swig of the Jack Daniel’s he’d had resting between his thighs.

Dennis didn’t give a shit that Mac was gay. If Mac had done this with women when he was under the illusion that he was straight, Dennis would have hated it just as much. He would have sat Mac down and had a talk with him about boundaries and letting strangers into their space no matter what the gender of Mac’s partners were, because letting random people intrude on the aspects of Mac and Dennis’ life that were just for _ them _wasn’t okay and it made Dennis sick.

He couldn’t even describe the feeling that he felt, seeing Mac and some random guy — Brad or Brandon or something, Dennis didn’t really give a shit what his name was — sitting together on _ Mac and Dennis’ couch _eating popcorn and watching a movie and sitting much too close. Dennis’ stomach churned as he watched from the doorway of his bedroom and his nails dug crescents into his palms, his jaw clenched firmly shut. The only emotion he could compare it to was rage, but it was something deeper, something that made bile want to rise around the lump in his throat.

Dennis didn’t know how to name it, but he never wanted to feel it again.

All he had to do was tell Mac this, calmly, without sounding like an asshole and without Mac storming out before he could finish. Mac could be reasonable on occasion and he always wanted to please Dennis, so if Dennis made him realize why he hated Mac bringing random guys into the apartment so much, Mac would stop. Simple as that.

Dennis decided then that he’d have to wait for Mac to come home and they could have a conversation. Then, everything could go back to normal and Mac would understand that Dennis didn’t mind him being gay, he just didn’t want his environment tainted with the presence of strangers.

He’d just have to sit here and wait until Mac got home.

~

Hours passed. Mac didn’t come home.

Dennis gave up on waiting for Mac at three in the morning, standing on wobbly legs and barely avoiding sloshing the contents of the bottle of whiskey onto the couch. It took him three tries to recap the bottle but he eventually managed to screw it on and get it on the coffee table.

He stumbled into his bedroom and slipped his jeans off, not even bothering with his shirt or attempting to try to put on a pair of sweatpants.

He threw himself in bed and immediately regretted the quick movement, the contents of his stomach strongly disagreeing with his decision.

Mac was definitely avoiding him now, Dennis thought. Earlier, when Mac left the apartment, Dennis could respect that he needed space, but not coming home all night? Not returning so that they could talk things out?

Dennis felt annoyance rise in him. He’d felt bad at first for how his words to Mac had sounded, but if he wasn’t given a chance to explain what he meant, he couldn’t really be fully blamed for the fight.

Dennis fell asleep thinking about Mac. He hoped that this fight didn’t last long; the apartment felt empty without Mac here.

~

Dennis woke up the next morning to a still empty apartment and a pounding headache. He climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom, drinking straight from the faucet once he’d washed his hands to get rid of the cotton in his mouth. He grabbed the ibuprofen from his bathroom cabinet, popped two, then returned to his bedroom to get ready. Twenty minutes later, he deemed himself presentable enough to go to work.

The drive to work was quiet without Mac in the car to argue with him about what they should listen to on the radio and to bitch when Dennis refused to let him turn off Rick Astley. Dennis shook his head every time he thought about Mac, trying to keep his head clear. If Mac didn’t want to talk to him, Dennis wasn’t gonna mope around about it.

He went in through the front door of the bar when he arrived and stopped in his tracks as soon as he’d passed the threshold.

“What the hell is that?” Dennis asked. Standing in front of him were Frank and Charlie on either side of a gigantic box that was only an inch shorter than Frank.

“Karaoke machine,” Charlie replied. His shirt was drenched in sweat. He must’ve been the one to get the box in the bar. “Where’s Mac?”

“I don’t know! Why would I know the whereabouts of Mac?” Dennis snapped.

“I don’t know, dude, you guys just, like, live together so I thought maybe you knew where he was,” Charlie said. “Forget I asked, though, ‘cause clearly it’s a sore subject.”

“It’s not a sore subject! I’m not sore!” Dennis yelled.

“Alright, well… anyways,” Charlie said, turning back to the box and ripping at it with his hands. Dennis was thankful for the change in attention. He didn’t even want to _ think _about Mac right now.

“So… why did we get a karaoke machine?” Dennis asked.

“We’re startin’ a karaoke scheme,” Frank replied, stabbing the box repeatedly with a knife. “Now get over here and help us get this thing out of the box.”

“Hold on, how is _ bar karaoke _a scheme?” Dennis asked. “That’s just a normal facet of most bars, that’s not a scheme.”

“Actually, dude, hear us out on this one, ‘cause it actually makes sense,” Charlie said, pausing from his effort to rip the box apart. “So Frank and I were in bed last night, and I was trying to sleep, right? But Frank wouldn’t shut the hell up. I mean the man was talking _ total nonsense.” _

Frank nodded, looking from Charlie to Dennis. “It’s true. I had too much cat food and was feeling real weird.”

“And I was getting fed up with it! So I started to climb into the Crevice, but then Frank screamed out something that grabbed my attention,” Charlie said. “He yelled, ‘Karaoke machine scheme!’ and I’ll be honest, I liked the way that phrase kinda, like, flowed together, ‘cause you know, I like rhymes and, like, Def poetry and shit, so I stopped climbing into the Crevice, and I said, ‘Alright, man, tell me more’.”

“When does this story start answering my question?” Dennis groaned, massaging his temples.

“I’m getting there, man! Just hold your hoses!”

“Hold my— _ what? _ It’s ‘hold your _ horses’ _,” Dennis said, bewildered. “How could you possibly not know that phrase?”

“Huh?”

“The phrase is ‘hold your horses’, Charlie. Jesus Christ.”

“Huh? How would that even make sense? Like, you can’t _ hold _ a horse, it’s much too large. At best, you could possibly grasp it, or put it in a machine that will hold it, but then technically _ you _are not holding the horse,” Charlie replied, scratching his head. “Now, hoses on the other hand, can easily be held, and they regularly are, like, every day. So I think that I might be right about—”

“Oh, holy shit! Goddamn! Charlie, I don’t give a shit! What is the scheme!” Dennis yelled, throwing his arms up.

“Okay, okay, geez,” Charlie raised his hands. “So after I climbed out of the Crevice, Frank explained to me that the cleverly named ‘karaoke machine scheme’—”

Charlie did finger quotes in the air. Dennis sighed loudly.

“—would consist of us purchasing a karaoke machine, getting popular for said machine, then holding a karaoke contest.”

Dennis raised his eyebrows. That… actually seemed like it could work, if Frank and Charlie were on the same page as him. “So, what? We charge an admission fee to get into the contest, then rig it so that one of us wins? Thereby making a huge profit and losing none of it?”

“Exactly, dude.”

“I have to say, Frank, that scheme actually makes sense,” Dennis said. He was truly shocked; Frank had never, not even once, had a coherent idea for a scheme.

“Right, dude?” Charlie said.

“Thank you, Dennis,” Frank preened. “Now get over here and help us get this thing out of the box.”

They got the karaoke machine out of the box and as soon as they’d finished, Dee walked in.

“Oh, shit! Are we doing my karaoke scheme?” Dee exclaimed. “It’s about time you boners listened to my brilliant ideas.”

“Dee, what are you even talking about?” Charlie scoffed. “This was Frank’s idea. He had a proclivity last night and came up with it.”

“Epiphany, Charlie,” Dennis corrected.

“Ugh, gross, dude,” Charlie replied, his face contorting in disgust. Dennis sighed, rolling his eyes, and headed behind the bar to start polishing glasses. He didn’t have the mental energy to deal with Charlie’s illiteracy today.

“What do you mean ‘your karaoke scheme’?” Frank yelled, pointing at Dee with the knife still in his hand. “This is my goddamn idea! I came up with it myself.”

“No you didn’t! Last week after we closed, we did a bunch of shots and I said we should get a karaoke machine so we could hold a fake contest and you two idiots both said it was a good idea!”

Frank paused.

“Oh, yeah. I remember that now,” he said. He then whipped around and pointed at Charlie. “But it was Charlie’s idea to get the karaoke machine!”

“Oh, shit, really? It was?” Charlie replied, his face lighting up. “You know what? I think I remember that now, too. It was totally my idea.”

“It’s a great idea, Charlie,” Frank commended, patting him on the back.

Dennis looked at Dee and noted that the vein in her forehead looked like it was about to pop. He took a few steps away from her.

“I hate you assholes,” Dee growled, stomping behind the bar to hide her purse. Looking around, she then asked Dennis, “Where’s Mac?”

“Jesus Christ, why does everyone keep asking me where Mac is? I’m not Mac’s keeper!” Dennis snapped.

“Goddamn, _ sorry, _” Dee exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know you two still hadn’t made up yet.”

“Shit, dude, are you and him fighting again?” Charlie groaned. “You guys are so fucking annoying when you fight.”

“We are not _ fighting!” _ Dennis yelled. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone about Mac? Why did every fucking conversation have to revolve around Mac?

“You so are fighting!” Dee said. She looked at Charlie. “He came over to my apartment yesterday to bitch about Mac. They’re totally fighting.”

“You know what? It doesn’t matter if we’re fighting because it doesn’t concern any of you!” Dennis growled. “As long as we both show up and do our jobs then it literally doesn’t fucking affect you.”

Charlie laughed once, loud and high-pitched. “That’s bullshit! You two are the _ worst _ when you fight! Instead of being clingy with each other like normal, which works for everyone and is cool because none of us are dragged into your weird relationship shit, you guys both cling to us instead and drag us all in your shit and it’s _ so annoying—“ _

“We do not _ cling _to each other—”

“You so totally do, dude, but literally no one cares ‘cause it’s just how you guys are but you’re making a big deal out of it—“

“No I’m not! That’s just an utter falsehood, I mean—“

Dee squawked. “It’s so true and you _ know _ it, you boner, and you always come bother _ me in particular _ whenever you and Mac are fighting—“

_ Bang! Bang! Bang! _

Charlie, Dennis, and Dee all stopped bickering at once, their hands flying up to their ears.

“What the _ fuck, _Frank?” Dee exclaimed, ducking behind the bar. “Why are you firing your gun inside the bar?”

“Because everyone needs to shut the hell up,” Frank said, pointing at each of them with his gun. Dennis and Dee ducked as he gestured at them, but Charlie remained upright. “I don’t give a shit about any of this and I’m not paying you to bitch about Mac, or Mac and Dennis, or whatever the hell else. Get over here and help me get this goddamn karaoke machine to the other end of the bar.”

Dennis took out a shot glass and poured himself a drink. He downed the first, poured himself a second, and passed Dee the bottle when she reached for it.

They drank, then rounded the bar to help with the karaoke machine. It took them twenty minutes just to get it to the back of the bar where Frank wanted it, and Dennis found himself seriously regretting his decision not to eat anything all day. He felt lightheaded and clammy by the time the job was done, and the shots he’d taken weren’t doing much to help.

Mac finally strolled in ten minutes later. Dennis’ heart jumped in his throat as he watched Mac pointedly ignore his gaze.

“Heyo!” Mac called. “Sorry I’m late. I was at my mom’s and she would _ not _stop talking even though I told her I had work. You guys know how she can be.”

“Uh… sure. She’s a real chatterbox,” Charlie replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Dennis snorted, grabbing a cloth and wiping down the bar. He ignored the glare he could feel Mac drilling into the side of his head.

Mac’s presence was like a blinding bright light shone directly into Dennis’ face and it was making him feel ill. He wanted to talk to Mac about what happened and explain everything, but he also kind of wanted to slap him.

“Oh yeah, Mac! We got a karaoke machine!” Charlie exclaimed, pointing to the shiny new machine in the corner of the bar.

“Oh shit! Really? I always wanted a karaoke machine!” Mac exclaimed, running over to check it out. Charlie followed him, and Dennis could hear him explaining the latest scheme to him. He tried to tune them out as best as he could, but it didn’t work very well, his body forcing him to be hyper aware of Mac’s presence.

Soon, customers started to stream in and Dennis was distracted for a while filling orders. Mac stood by the door and checked IDs, and Dennis watched him, noting the way Mac was resolutely not looking anywhere near Dennis’ direction.

That was fine, Dennis thought. Mac could be angry at him now, but tonight, they’d go home and talk things out, Mac would apologize for overreacting, and things would go back to normal. Dennis desperately needed things to go back to normal before he burst.

He was aware that he sometimes experienced… outbursts, for lack of a better term. Sometimes, everything got to be too much and Dennis felt like the whole world was a second away from opening up and swallowing him whole. During an outburst, it was as if he felt every emotion hit him at once. He couldn’t control his reaction to such intense feelings, and usually he’d divulge into a screaming fit of rage or, on occasion, uncontrollable tears. It was a nuisance. Dennis could feel the overwhelming swirl of emotions sizzling under the surface now, waiting to strike. If Mac didn’t talk to Dennis soon, he knew that he’d lose it.

Closing time came what felt like a century later. Dennis spent the entirety of his shift watching Mac check IDs at the door out of the corner of his eye. He’d decided a few hours before closing that he’d corner Mac after they’d closed the bar and get him to talk to Dennis. He couldn’t wait for Mac to come home because he didn’t know if that would actually happen.

Now, the bar was closed and Dennis was ready to catch Mac at the door.

“Mac,” he called.

Mac ignored him, pushing the door open and stepping out onto the dark street.

“Mac, c’mon,” Dennis sighed, jogging to catch up with him. “This is ridiculous, dude.”

Mac froze, and Dennis stopped in his tracks to save himself from running straight into Mac’s back. Mac scoffed and whipped around.

“_ Ridiculous? _Seriously, Dennis?” Mac said, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Dennis’ teeth came together with a click. He fought back his immediate urge to explode in an uncontrollable rage and backtracked, deciding to be the voice of reason instead.

“Look, I didn’t mean that, okay? This isn’t —” Dennis sighed. “I get why you’re mad at me. I get that you don’t want to talk to me.”

“If you get it, then why don’t you leave me the fuck _ alone _, Dennis?” Mac shouted. “You said it yourself. I don’t want to talk to you. That’s the last thing I want to do right now.”

“Because you don’t even understand why I’m angry in the first place,” Dennis groaned, carding his hands through his hair. This was so difficult to explain; he couldn’t even put it into words for himself. “And if you understood then we wouldn’t be fighting right now!”

“You have no reason to be angry at me! I didn’t do shit to you, except,_ apparently _, disgust you with my gayness!” Mac yelled, whipping back around and starting to walk down the street again.

Dennis followed behind him. “Mac, I don’t give a shit if you’re gay. I didn’t mean for what I said to sound like that.”

“You don’t care that I’m gay, but it’s disgusting that I’m banging dudes,” Mac countered, glaring at him.

“What — no! I just don’t like you bringing guys home, is all!” Dennis exclaimed.

“Oh my god, dude! Do you even realize what you’re saying right now?” Mac said, throwing his hands up. “You just said you’re not homophobic, you just don’t want me shoving my gayness in your face. How the fuck is that not homophobic?”

“I’m not being—” Dennis faltered, voice weak.

He didn’t even know what to say to Mac to explain what had happened the other day. He knew he didn’t have a problem with Mac being gay, but he didn’t know how to put into words why it actually bothered him that Mac was bringing home other guys.

Maybe it was better to just stay quiet rather than to make things worse.

“You know what? I really don’t want to talk about this with you right now. Leave me the fuck alone,” Mac growled, walking farther down the street away in the opposite direction of his and Dennis’ apartment.

Dennis surprised himself by letting Mac walk away, watching numbly as the distance between him and Mac grew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew thanks for reading so far!! the next chapter (imo) is when it finally gets good so stay tuned for that :))) hopefully it'll be up pretty soon if school doesn't kick my ass again!!


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